The Definition
by preoperative
Summary: Life goes on. If we humans have learnt anything, it is that. But some things are still remembered, and in the year 2718, things are twisted far, far beyond belief. With what they thought 'history' changing beneath them... RR!
1. The Prologue

**Disclaimer:** It's not mine and I don't own it.  
  
**A/N:** This is an odd fic that came to me at night just before I went to bed. I stayed up another two hours until 12.19 (as it currently is as I am writing this) so any mistakes and that put it down to the document being written by a zombie. It's odd, I'll give you that,  
  
**Summery:** This is a different aspect outside of our world, a future of own, and a past. A place where things you'd never think possible are everyday experiences, a place where there are no limits but the limits you set yourself. Everything, anything! It can happen; nothing is unattainable. And yet, even in this world... mystery is defined.

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

_"Ill news hath wings, and with the wind doth go, Comfort's a cripple and comes ever slow"  
_ Michael Drayton

* * *

"Good morning Miss Potter, how are you today?" the child looked up at the man behind the counter and gave him a tremendous smile. It was obvious the girl had him completely hooked as she turned her expressive hazel eyes towards the darker blue ones of the hotel doorman's. She gave a short scowl, which by rights should have made her look like a sulky young child, but instead only managed to make her all the more adorable.  
  
"Mommy and daddy are sleeping in, so I'm bored and I don't have anything to do" she gave a sigh and looked at the plush carpets before again looking up, eyes full of hope "can you play with me?" he couldn't. He was already in a bit of trouble with his supervisor, and being found playing games with a seven year old certainly wouldn't help him. He sighed.  
  
When the man didn't answer 'Miss Potter's' eyes began to tear up and she looked down again at the carpet, barely managing to hold in huge body- racking snuffles. The doorman sighed again looking at the small child.  
  
"Yes, of course I can" he smiled at her but inside he couldn't help thinking '_there goes my job''_ in a sarcastic tone of thought, he thought it even as he requested what Sara Potter wanted to play. She bounced over to him and grabbed his hand, swinging it with joy as she instructed him on what she wanted to do until her mommy and daddy woke up, which she informed him would not be until much later on.  
  
Sara wanted to know about everything. How the elevators worked, where they went when no one was in them, if they had special people who sometimes sat inside them and asked you where to go (she had heard of this before and was curious) he laughed at her, before ruffling her long red hair and with a careless movement. Somehow when he was with the inquisitive girl he found himself relaxing, and enjoying things as if it were for the first time; forgetting the problems with his girlfriend and his mother's illness. He found that he enjoyed life just that little bit more.  
  
He would remember it for the rest of his short life.  
  
"Sir, should we go bac' to my mommy and daddy's room now? They'll might probably be up 'bout now" she shot him an anxious glance as he nodded at her in agreement.  
  
"So what's your room number Miss Potter?" she scrunched her nose up in faked annoyance at the formal title, but pulled a small piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to him with a small smile.  
  
"So I don't forget. Daddy gave it to me when your friend had to look me up in the regi – regissra – "  
  
"Registrar"  
  
"Oh! Right, the reg-i-st-rar. After I'd gotten out of the rooms twice" she gave him an endearing pout and crossed her small arms "it wasn't _my _fault they forgot which room I was in!" he laughed at her indignant pose and consulted the number on the scrap of paper. Room 906.  
  
"This way Miss Potter, I'm sure your family are worried sick about you!" Sara giggled and followed him as he led the way to her parent's suit and with a flourish knocked on the door. Sara giggled again at his performance. The door was ripped open and middle aged women ran out and immediately grabbed Sara and started hugging and scolding her at the same tide.  
  
The doorman smiled at the unusual show if affection; nowadays it didn't happen often you'd see any two people embracing in public.  
  
The mother pulled away from her now scowling daughter with a sigh before turning to the doorman with a thankfull look on her face.  
  
"I hope she wasn't _too_ much trouble! If you get in trouble or anything from this then please just direct any problems my way, you don't know how grateful I am!" she gave a quick sigh and looked down at her daughter fondly and shook her head "she's such a handful!"  
  
"It was a pleasure looking after her, she's a wonderful child. You should be very proud of her; she's a very intelligent and bright young girl" the mother smiled in thanks and looked down at Sara again.  
  
"Yes, well. A bit too bright for her own good I dare say! She just has to put all of her intelligence into how to escape from her parents now doesn't she!" this comment was directed towards Sara as the mother leant down so she was looking at Sara's face. The child giggled as her mother poked her.  
  
He smiled at the lightness and carefree attitude between the two.  
  
"If I'm not intruding, but, are you really related to Harry Potter?" the mother didn't look at all phased by the question and it was obvious she'd been asked it before. He blushed, as she let out a sigh and seemed to prepare for a long answer.  
  
"Harry Potter didn't actually have any children; but he adopted twins from one of the families who had died during the war. We're descendants of those two, Kimberly and Jason, the two most popular names, apart from Harry, Ron and Virginia in the whole GH. Unfortunately he disappeared about a year after adopting them, but the Potter name has lived on with them, and we're the proof of it" she gave him a small smile "the only Potter's left actually, my cousin Bellatrix and her family have recently died in a car crash" he blinked.  
  
"Wow. So, you're not actually related to him by blood? That means you can't perform any blood spells to do with the Potter line or anything like that?" it was her turn to blink, and she did so obviously confused before realisation turned her face into a smile.  
  
"Gosh, it's at times like this I forget just how little muggles know about magic" she looked at him pityingly before continuing "blood is a quite illegal substance when used in spells. It can have dramatic and very unpredictable reactions to different magics and ingredients. It is not actually legal to use any type of blood magic. All the tales you hear about that happening are quite false. No wizard in today's society would even think of using blood magic, for their own health as much as the fact they have no idea how" she smiled at his and Sara's interest.  
  
"Why don't you come inside?" he didn't even stop to consider if he was barging in on her he so wanted to hear about magic, so he just nodded and followed her in, waiting for her to continue. Seeing his eager look she complied with a small smile.  
  
"But just like you have the wrong idea about the use of blood magic you probably have the wrong idea about what it exactly does. The name is certainly very misleading. Blood magic has nothing to do with blood whatsoever, but instead the magic that defines the blood, similar to a magical form of DNA, but also quite different. For instance, if I were to invoke blood magic on Sara, then I would be able to do many things. An example of which might be any of my spells would be amplified because of the blood tie we share." She turned to Sara, who was listening with the same fascinated expression on her face as the doorman.  
  
"There are many complex rules, but Sara and I are currently the only people in the GH that can perform blood magic, legally or simply powerwise. Now, I bet what you were thinking about before, when you asked about blood magic, was a thing called Necromancy which is very different indeed" she paused, and before she could go on her interrupted her.  
  
"Why are you telling me this? I bet some people on the board of the NGH, hell, even the GH don't know this! Why are you telling me?" he looked slightly taken aback, as if his own words had come as a surprise to him. She gave him another warm smile before answering him.  
  
"You asked the right question"  
  
"But – I don't know anything about what you're talking about"  
  
"But you asked the right question"  
  
"How does that fit in? I am very confused"  
  
"You just need to ask the right question. Say the right words, and the door opens, how do I describe this?" she tapped a paper fan that had appeared in her hands to her chin thoughtfully "It's just like... magic" his head shot up with widened eyes.  
  
"Can you teach me?"  
  
"You should no better than that. I'm not going to throw away what my own ancestor stood for. Muggles and muggleborns simply aren't meant to know about magic. Only the Purebloods, you know that. If I were to teach you I'd be disregarding everything Harry Potter stood for!" Sara was glaring at her mother.  
  
"He didn't stand for that mommy! He believed that everyone should be taught magic mommy! He did! Everyone!" The mother threw her daughter an irritated glance, and Sara sent her a haughty glare before turning to the doorman.  
  
"It's true. Harry was against no body knowing magic, he was fighting he- who-must-be-named over it. That's what he was fighting for!" she was grinning and her hazel eyes were filled with something that could almost be called religious zeal. She nodded at some thought she was having, agreeing with herself. Her mother coughed.  
  
"Darling, that's not true, how many times have I told you? Harry was fighting he-who-must-not-be-named against it, he didn't want our bloodline to be made impure so he fought the evil-one, who was forcing the weak muggleborns to learn magic! Where do you get these ridiculous ideas from? I can't bear to think what it could do to you" she looked over at the doorman.  
  
"I never asked your name" he nodded, eyes still wide as he looked from daughter to mother.  
  
"I – I'm James. James Clark" she nodded.  
  
"Kathy Potter. It's a pleasure. But I think you'd better go, before she goes and embarrasses herself in front of you. I don't know where she gets these silly ideas from, but they most certainly aren't true" he nodded, agreeing with her.  
  
"Thankyou. Thankyou very much, this is more than I ever hoped for. I didn't realise you were so important. I – Is there anything I can do to help you? Anything at all?" she looked up at him and frowned thoughtfully.  
  
"Just one thing" he nodded eagerly, and noticed out of the corner of his eye Sara's head slowly rise as if she wanted to say something. Kathy smiled at him and pulled out her wand. He glanced at it curiously, obviously unaware of what it was.  
  
"Mom! No! Don – " she stopped as her mother softly enunciated the two words.  
  
"Advada Kedavra" the green light reached him before he had even registered that the stick could create light. He hit the floor with a soft thud. Dead.  
  
Sara started to cry.  
  
Kathy moved over to comfort her daughter, who flinched from her. She talked to Sara quietly, explaining, explaining it all away.  
  
"He was a sacrifice darling, and everyone has to make sacrifices" her eyes spoke that she believed her words, but Sara's eyes were wide in denial.  
  
She knew.

* * *

The next day as they were leaving Sara trailed along behind her laughing parents quiet and sullen, totally contrasting to the mood she had arrived at the hotel in. The new doorman smiled at her as she went past, but she turned away, remembering the last one. She supposed, her young mind working far beyond the normal capabilities of a girl her age, that there would always be another doorman, an endless supply of doormen. That night she cried herself to sleep, and vowed, somehow, that she would make it all better.  
  
But Sara Potter grew.  
  
She didn't stay a seven year old, and the traits that her seven year old self had disappeared like they had never existed, very soon she was sixteen, and ready to enter a new world on a new level.  
  
But there were some things Sara Potter never forgot.  
  
And the endless supply of doormen was one of them.

* * *

**Notes:**

**NGH stands for:** Northern Global Hierarchy, the first half of the Global Hierachy that ruled to two halves of the world.

**GH stands for:** Global Hierarchy, the entire of both governments put together to rule the world (corny? Ya bet!) and make sure all of the rules in the RWC (Respect War Constitution). One of the leaders, an advisor of sorts who has a lot of power, is always of the Power line.

**RWC stands for:** Respect War Constitution which was a constitution formalized this bit was deleted so no spoilers would be left for you. You don't want spoilers do you? Just imagine a beep ten or so words long Harry Potter.

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**A/N:** Ok, this is a very odd idea, and like I said before, occurred to me at 10'o clock at night. Forgive my foolish ways as I forgive other authors who screw up their own stories. Yada Yada, I love you all. Please review. Harry will obviously be playing a part in this, so don't worry, and I'd like to advise that you read my other story because I don't think that it's total crap, which is a lot more than I can say for a lot of the fics of ffnet.  
  
Than you and sorry if I sound pissed off. I am.  
  
G'night.  
  
Pre ..'-'.. 


	2. The Beginning

**Disclaimer:** It's not mine and I don't own it.  
  
**A/N:** If you're reading this then you probably already know how screwed up this fic is and you don't need me to tell you. Well bad luck. I'm gonna tell you anyway. This fic is screwed. I am screwed. Fuck it, life is screwed!  
  
Ok. Thanx, just needed to vent a bit, moving right along. Read the fic below. Thankyou.  
  
**Q's and A's:  
**  
When is this fic set?  
_ It's set about seven hundred years after the timeline in the HP books.  
At the moment I don't really need to define it so I won't, but its  
roundabout that time.  
_  
What the hell is blood magic?  
_ Essentially it's just magic that Harry and his 'descendants' can  
perform, but I may decide to give it a bigger role in the story line.  
How it works? Well basically it's the magical equivalent of DNA, but  
has elements that don't change and are inherited by children from  
their parents, which is why when performed in a family it can be  
strong.  
_  
Are the currant 'Potter's' really Potters?  
_ I've already explained this. No. They are not, in any way, shape or  
form related to Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, green eyed little  
bugga (I wish) apart from the fact he adopted their ancestors (which  
you will learn more about, the main reason for your need to know about  
this is... he never actually adopted them, but you'll find out more  
later).  
_  
Did Harry die? How?  
  
_Harry? Die? Ya have gotta be kiddin me? No way, nuhu and absolutely not. This is Harry-bloody-Potter we're talking about right? Die? Get a fcuking life!  
  
_Is Sara good or bad?  
_ You are soo going to love me. For this you're just going to have to  
wait and see. I'm sure it's actually rather predictable, but I like  
my thrills, I'll try and add a few twists and turns just to make it  
interesting.  
_  
Why is one of Harry's 'descendants' called Bellatrix?  
_ It's part of a bigger much more major sub-plot. As you can probably  
see tho, things start to get a little... tricky. Lets just say that the  
world wasn't all sunshine and lollypops once Harry disappeared. A few  
twisted lies, a couple of well placed spells and Bellatrix Lestrange  
was a loving and supportive family member of the boy-who-lived. In my  
universe things are very twisted, but wait! It gets better.  
_  
Any other Q's then just e-mail me or leave a review and I'll be sure to answer your queries!

**Summery: **This is a different aspect outside of our world, a future of own, and a past. A place where things you'd never think possible are everyday experiences, a place where there are no limits but the limits you set yourself. Everything, anything! It can happen; nothing is unattainable. And yet, even in this world... mystery is defined.

* * *

**Chapter One** – The Beginning  
  
_"The nature of bad news infects the teller"_  
William Shakespeare

* * *

**--1997--**  
  
_Harry Potter grinned as he high-fived his best friend Ron before turning to his girlfriend. Hermione Granger gave him a quick peck on the lips and pushed him up so that he was grinning at the whole hall. Most of the hall, Slytherin's accepted, grinned back.  
  
"Thankyou Harry, we hope that you enjoy your new position" the Gryffindor table cheered as their hero sat down on the wooden seats with a thud, still grinning from ear to ear. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ron exchange something with Hermione, and he grinned before turning back to them.  
  
"Can I stop smiling yet?" they both burst out laughing at his bland remark and nodded their heads jerkily. Harry grinned and dropped the smile instantly, suddenly looking very different. Ron and Hermione blinked at the transformation their friend had just made. Harry's face had suddenly gone from laughing and mischievous to blank and emotionless. He turned to his dinner, not letting anyone else see his vacant face.  
  
Ron and Hermione turned back to each other and blinked again, astonished by the change in their friend. But before either of them could speak, the laughing face of Harry James Potter waved his hands in front of their faces.  
  
"You two are so gullible!" he continued to laugh and returned to his meal, the façade of happiness never dropping a notch. Ron started to laugh before turning back to Harry, pushing the incident from his mind. Hermione, however, paused for a while and looked at her boyfriend, before squinting at him, as if hoping that by scrutinizing him more his secrets would be revealed to her.  
  
Nothing happened and instead he just turned back to her and motioned towards the full platters of food.  
  
"Gonna eat anything tonight Mi?" she nodded slowly and turned to the food, noticing vaguely that her hands were clenched into tight fists, and in one hand, the note Ron had given her was scrunched up from the fear that had come over when she looked into Harry's emotionless eyes.  
  
"Yeah, of course I am. I just don't plan on stuffing myself so full that I end up having to go to Madame Pomfrey before class even starts!" she gave an indignant huff and gathered some food onto her plate. Harry grinned at her before saluting her with his fork and the potato stuck on the end of it.  
  
"That's the spirit Mi! Dig in!" and he returned to his own food with relish.  
  
Later that night Hermione was reading the note that Ron had given her, and having regrets.  
  
_ Hermione,  
  
Tonight. Midnight. North Tower.  
  
_She gulped, and put her wand to the piece of parchment, watching, as with no flame at all, it slowly turned to ash and disintegrated in her hands, leaving them black and stained.  
  
She fought back tears.  
  
And slowly climbed into bed, setting her alarm for 11 o clock, which was only two hours away. Slowly, she drifted off into an uneasy nights sleep._

_

* * *

_  
** --2718--  
**  
Sara Potter sat upright in bed, breathing heavily. She twisted so that she could see her alarm, and looked at the glowing blue letters with a mild amount of annoyance before collapsing back down with a sigh. It was 11 o clock at night, and she was tired. It was coming up on July 31st and the whole of her family had been running around all over the place trying to get things ready for the birthday and deathday partys.  
  
Sara herself had been doing very little running around or anything else, she had in fact been ordering her younger brother, named Jason after Harry Potter's adoptive children, around to do all of her chores. Jason, who adored her, had been doing them all willingly and quite competently, while his older sister had been sitting in her room reading about the Kedreva curse.  
  
"Sara?" she turned around to face the small form of her ten year old sister and sighed, mentally wondering why the girl was up so late, but nodded for the girl to continue.  
  
"I'm bored" she sighed again, wondering if it would be worth counting how many times her younger sister had come into her room and said the exact same phrase in the exact same tone of voice with the exact same intent at any given or for that matter ungiven time of the day. She managed to stop herself from putting her head in her hands.  
  
"Well then why don't you go and do something interesting? And quit bothering me? It's eleven and I need to sleep!" the ten year old walked into the room and made her way over to the bed Sara was sleeping in.  
  
"Then why are you awake?" Sara avoided her sister's eyes, perfectly aware of Fey's 'special' ability.  
  
"I had a bad dream is all, nothing else. So why are you up so late at night?" the girl shook her head before leaning over and tapping Sara's temple.  
  
"What was the dream about?" Sara looked down, trying desperately to not think of the green-eyes that had haunted her since she was seven. Her sister sat down in her lap and laced her arms around Sara's neck, looking at the blue eyed sixteen year old blankly. Sara shivered as the white orbs started at her expressionlessly, seeming to know where she was, even though she couldn't be seen by the young girl.  
  
"It was about the past Fey" the blind girl nodded.  
  
"You dreamt of butlers and doormen, wolves and mice, just like you always do" Sara shivered again at the mention of her fears. Ever since she was a young child she had been afraid doormen, wolves and mice, as well as butlers; mainly because she could vaguely remember the incident when she had been four years old, when their butler had tried to kill them all in their sleep. She quickly blocked her mind from the sources of her other fears.  
  
"No, not tonight Fey. Tonight I dreamt of the past" she cradled the fragile form of her sister in her arms, resting her head against her sisters blond hair and closing her eyes, hoping that she might gain some of the wisdom her younger shadow had, that she might see through her sisters eyes.  
  
"The one you had when you were young?" Sara nodded softly against the warmth of the bundle.  
  
"The one that made you a blood traitor" Sara started to nod before realising what the words were and stopping, speechless. Suddenly Fey spoke again.  
  
"But I know, sister, that you are still faithful to Harry Potter. No matter if you be a blood traitor to your ancestors or not" she reached up a small hand and touched her sisters cheek.  
  
"You know the story of Adoption. Where our family was given to Harry Potter to care for and look after, where he adopted us. Have you ever wondered who the parents of those children were? The real parents?" Sara nodded, struck by how mature her younger sister sounded.  
  
"I know sister. I didn't wonder. I found out" Sara managed a jerky nod again, waiting for the blond to continue.  
  
"Would you like me to go on??" Another jerky nod.  
  
"Our ancestors are none other than Bellatrix Lestrange and Rodulphus" Sara's eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat, but the she frowned softly and a small 'oh' escaped her lips.  
  
"But they were Harry's closest friends after Ron and Virginia! They survived the war! Why didn't they keep Jason and Kimberly?" Sara's eyes were wide, imagine being related to the Lestranges! Not only to Harry Potter, but the Lestranges!  
  
Fey looked down in her sisters arms.  
  
"Because Harry Potter never adopted anyone. And he certainly never adopted Bellatrix Lestranges daughter and son. Methinks he would rather have died than even think it" she paused, visionless eyes fixed on her sisters rapidly whitening face, waiting for the inevitable question.  
  
"What do you mean? What are you talking about?!" Fey smiled softly.  
  
"If nothing else, sister, you are predictable. But what I am about to tell you is the truth. I swear to you it is. Much of it you will find you remember; as if a slight sense of De jevu has come over you. I promise you that however far fetched it may seem _this is the truth..."_  
  
And Fey Potter told her sister the truth.  
  
And _that_ is where our story begins.

* * *

**Notes:**

**In case you're wondering:** The RWC was formalized 72 years after the disappearance and supposed death of Harry James Potter by his adoptive grandchildren.

**Fey Potter:** Is younger sister to Sara. She is six years younger than Sarah and was not awake the day that the doorman died. She was sleeping in a cot in another room and was blinded shortly after when a poisonous snake bit her, the only way they could save her was to make her loose her eyesight forever.

**Jason Potter:** Is also younger brother to Sara and is only eight. He was not alive when the doorman was killed.

**Garth Potter:** Is two years older than Sara and believes that Harry Potter hated mudbloods, he loves Sara very much but thinks she is just mislead and is always nice and kind to her. No more needs to be said.

**Rachael Potter:** Is seven and younger sister to Sara. She adores and idolises Sara. Special Talents: Will be revealed later, but basically similar to in '_The Named'_ and '_The Dark'_ where they have talents, but in this fic you only get one.  
  
( refer to Notes in Prologue for a bit of info on the RWC)

* * *

**A/N:** And that is the second chapter. Sorry it's so short, I was in a bit of a hurry to post it and that bit above was the perfect place to end the chapter, I promise the next one will be longer and hopefully provide a bit more entertainment.  
  
Pre ...'-'... 


	3. The Game

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the following story in any way.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

"Sin is behovely, but all shall be well an all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well"

- Julian of Norwich

* * *

The foyer of the main RWC building was always crowded. There were always people there, talking, walking and often times trying to get into the building illegally. The crowd was filled with millions of mechanical devices that would automate and send minute waves at a high and precise frequency the moment any threat of terrorism was detected. That was why every now and again, roughly every four hours, the building would be cleared and any bodies would be taken away.  
  
That was the foyer.  
  
The first to seventy sixth floors all contained offices that catered to the needs of lower executives given the important yet mundane jobs of keeping the world in order. They had spacey offices with beautiful views over the rest of the city and unlimited resources at their finger tips.  
  
The seventy sixth floor to the one-hundred and forty-fourth contained desks for army generals and other significant armed forces personnel, meeting rooms where they often met to discuss the patting down of rebels, and congratulate each other on the last and previous patting down of said rebels.  
  
However, the one-hundred and forty-four floors that went up from there were unknown.  
  
To most people.  
  
The next two hundred and ninety-eight floors of the building were donated solely to the solving of mysteries.  
  
If there was one thing that hadn't changed in seven-hundred years it was the fact that Wizards and muggles alike, both had the urge, the need to solve the problems of the universe, even when the problems didn't need solving.  
  
Each floor was donated to a mystery, and each mystery had only thirty people working on it, a drop in numbers of almost four hundred and fifty people per floor. Had people known what existed above the Militaries luxury launges, they might have found it extravagant for a floor that could have easily fit 1000 (small, to be sure, but still possible) offices, but they did not know it was there, and no complaints were issued.  
  
The people who worked on the Mystery floors were normal people who had just landed a not so normal job. They were all highly intelligent and, as a rule, strictly only had information about their own floor and therefore mystery.  
  
When a mystery was solved, the floor that had solved it would simply disappear, the workers being shifted to another floor, with all memory of the solved one being erased from their minds. The only way they knew how many floors they had worked on was by reading their security card and looking at the number of 'jobs' completed successfully and the floor names of said jobs, no matter about that, they were hardly amateurs.  
  
Most of the floors had been created in the last five hundred years, but a few were still lasting from the first fifty years of the organisations existence.  
  
There were sixteen altogether. Seven of which were donated solely to Harry Potter.  
  
The departments were organised like the rest of the RWC; the most important at the top, gradually getting less important as they reached lower divisions.  
  
The sections that were donated to Harry Potter were the only real exception to all the rules the Department of Mysteries had. Every decree that had ever been written down had been broken by someone who operated on the top seven floors, which became known as the Angel Quarter.  
  
One of the reasons for this was that the top seven floors didn't have one thousand people like they could. They didn't have the five-hundred that the military and ministry workers had to put up with. They didn't even have the normal thirty allocated to the DoM floors.  
  
The only had four people each.  
  
The top seven levels were all entwined another thing that made them different from the other two-hundred and ninety-one floors. If they solved a mystery (Which they hadn't, not since way back in 2470 when an American witch by the name of Cleo Farny had discovered information concerning Harry Potters wand. She had not revealed any information on where, but using a complex spell the Superiors had been able to discern that the information supplied was correct) then they were moved to another department in the Angel Quarter, not thrown down into any random floor unless you made an unforgivable mistake.  
  
The Anger Quarter was very different to its fellows and they performed a much wider variety of things than was usually used to find things out. For instance, the Farny Floor had created a spell team that traced magic back until the middle ages. They had created a actual spell (something nearly unheard of) and had been able to trace recurring magical patterns to Harry Potter's wand. It had all been very complicated and hard to understand, but in the end they had managed to work it out and, had the quartet decided that it's AQ (Angel Quarter) days were over, would have had enough money for several of their descendants to retire at age seven.  
  
No rules applied in the AQ apart from one, as well as the obvious silence pact.  
  
You never, ever touched, spoked to, contacted or communicated with any of the Ancient families, which included the Potters, Malfoy's, Blacks (A/N: Yes their line survives, you will learn more about this cose its actually pretty important) and Weasley's. Ever. Because the first mystery that the AQ had solved, had been one that clearly stated the exact opposite that each of the four families stood for:  
  
**_Why did he hate muggles so much?  
_**  
The department had originally thought they were onto something with a seer in Egypt, back in the year 2217, claiming that Potter had lived at an orphanage and had been treated badly, so turning against the muggles to fight for what was right, realising that in his hatred for them he had seen the light, when the seer had come to realise just what she was seeing.  
  
It had not been the above.  
  
But it had been one of the most important and amazing discoveries for seven hundred years, still un-beaten in the year 2718.  
  
She had discovered that she was seeing _Harry Potter's_ memories of _Voldemort's_ childhood, memories that had obviously been usurped by Harry from said darklord, a feat that had never since been compared.  
  
And they had discovered everything about the question their department was ruled by. But nothing more. Not a word to help any of the other ten departments, just to fulfil their question.  
  
I was unknown to most people that the head of the Seer Floor (aptly named after the answer had been recorded) had been the father of a very sick child in need of care he could not afford.  
  
Once the answer was delivered, he didn't need to worry about money ever again.  
  
And it was in the year 2718 that the seven top departments stood, waiting.

* * *

**_Dep. 5: Where did his power come from? _**

_**Dep. 4: How did he survive the killing curse? **_

_**Dep. 6: What was the extent of his powers? **_

**_Dep. 7: Who were his best and real friends?_** _(This department had been fed lies since the very beginning and were having a hard time without the new idea from dep. 5 that he had not had any friends and had stolen their power from them therefore turning them into his slaves while becoming invincible)_

_**Dep. 3: Who were his ancestors?** (There was argument over whether this was more important than the knowledge of how he had survived the killing curse, but the Superiors had simply delivered mail to all levels of the AQ and told them it was final)_

**_Dep. 2: How did he defeat Voldemort?  
_**  
But the most important department, which was positioned at the very top of the RWC headquarters, the oldest and most significant department was:  
  
**_Dep. 1: Where did he go once he disappeared from the history books?  
_**  
No body knew.  
  
But the department were getting very, very close.  
  
Even though they didn't know it yet, they were.  
  
And to think, it had only taken them seven hundred years.

* * *

Cassandra Relli was not Cassie's real name. Her real name had been Kimberly Deriar, but as soon as she had joined the AQ of DoM she had changed her name to Cassandra in an attempt to distance herself from the name of one of the Adopted, or un-adopted as the case had, in fact, been.  
  
As she appeared at the entering point of the building, pushing her way through the foyer in an attempt to make it to the lifts, something very odd started to happen.  
  
Time slowed as she accidentally tripped over one of the bodies lying on the floor and started to fall towards the ground, and quite suddenly, as her face connected solidly to the concrete floor, she had a very, very smart idea. And a very sore nose. But that could come later. She picked herself up off the floor and rushed over to the lifts, barely able to wait for them to reach her office, which was located, on the 442nd floor.  
  
As soon as she arrived she flew out of the small metal box and virtually ran to her desk, before starting up her computer and immediately being immersed in her work.  
  
Tawny Deen, who was another worker in Cassie's department had seen her hurried entrance, and walked slowly over, eventually reaching Cassie's shoulder and watching the screen she was working at. What she saw both amused and astounded her.  
  
Cassandra Relli was in a virtual reality game that little kids played on the net.  
  
But that wasn't all.  
  
Cassie was looking at a part of the game not many people got up to, and by the time they did they mostly thought they were too old to play it any more. But seeing as how both Cassie and Tawny had been the top in their classes through ages 3 to 20, they both knew the level quite well.  
  
Tawny was not stupid.  
  
If Tawny had been stupid she would not be working in Dep. 1.  
  
But she was working in Dep. 1. And she was watching her fellow colleague play a game and all the while look like she was solving the question she had been assigned to for the past four years of her life.  
  
"Cassie where did this come from?" the blond tore her eyes off the game, pausing it so nothing else could happen before turning to answer the brunette's question.  
  
"Did you ever wonder where the game was set? I mean, think about it! Look at the history of it!" seemingly too exited to even draw together a proper sentence, she turned back to the computer game, manipulating her character so that it began moving down endless corridors and through huge halls.  
  
Tawny moved to her own work space and sat down at her computer, watching the screen and trying to understand what Cassie had meant. She started typing slowly and in earnest before slowly building up speed as an idea struck her.  
  
When she found in the information she was looking for she sat back in amazement.  
  
The game Cassie had been playing was a game that had been created the year _before_ Harry Potter left. A game that had somehow survived over seven hundred years of play and was still one of the most popular in the world, while by rights it should be outdated, outrated and then simply: out. But that was not all, it meant that Harry Potter had known about the existence of the game, and that lead to a few ideas she would rather not currently think about.  
  
She pulled up the game on her screen and her favourite character, a brunette, like herself, with bushy hair and brown chocolate eyes, quite unlike herself, and started to play.  
  
It was a complicated level and it took years to actually be able to reach it, and by the time years were over, you were over the game. It was ingenious, she thought, if it was actually true.  
  
The level started in a building with lots of people crowding around, quite similar to the foyer, she thought distractedly, quickly manoeuvring 'Hermione' (her characters name) around a fountain that had golden statues in it of odd creatures, all looking towards the central figure of a witch and wizard.  
  
And then something struck her.  
  
Although the game was a virtual reality one, this was just a tad _too _real.  
  
She quickly considered where she had not been on this level, and remembered. Down the bottom, through one particular door, that was always locked.  
  
She made her way down.  
  
And paused the game because suddenly she knew how to get through that door.  
  
"Cassie! Come over here!" there was a scuttle and the brown eyed girl wandered over, looking extremely pissed off.  
  
"I can't get in there! I just can't figure out how to!" she sighed and sat down turning to the Tawny's screen "You neither huh? Maybe I'm wrong. Oh, I feel so stupid! I was so sure..." she trailed off at the grin on her work mates face.  
  
"I know how to get in" ignoring the look of amazement of Cassie's face she threw the girl a pair of glasses (A/N: Those ones that you wear in virtual reality games and stuff that make you think you're in it) and grabbed a pair for herself.  
  
"They're not compatible with the game Nee" Tawny ignored her and shoved her own on.  
  
"In this section, you came break all the rules you want. Do you know why?" Cassie shook her head, and put the glasses on, suddenly in the game.  
  
"I thought it was impossible?!" Tawney grinned at the ignorant statement.  
  
"No rules apply here Cass, Look around you. And guess where we are" Cassie's answer was immediate.  
  
"We are here" they both grinned at the joke.  
  
"Here being the RWC of course, the old building that used to stand here was used for the same purposes, just by a different set of people" Cassie nodded in understanding.  
  
"And?"  
  
"They had the same departments and everything, say, they might have even had the same password" Cassie blinked in sudden understanding.  
  
"You mean..." Tawny nodded and turned to the door.  
  
"Holly Pheonix Feather" and the door opened for the first time in over seven hundred years.

* * *

Sara Potter was dancing with Benjamin Weasley, who happened to be two years older than her and looking for a marriage. It was obvious to her that both of their parents thought it would be a wonderful idea for the two to get together and keep up the family names.  
  
Sara did not like that idea.  
  
She did not want to marry Ben.  
  
They were great friends, but she was just as aware as he was that he only saw her as a younger sister, and she only saw him as a big brother.  
  
But they were still dancing and there was no denying that their parents each had ulterior motives; there was more to it than simply wanting their daughter/son to have a nice, enjoyable night, which they were, but that was beyond the point.  
  
And so it was that Sara Potter felt _It_ in the middle of an enjoyable dance with one of her oldest friends.  
  
It being something she did not even know about.  
  
Something by all rights no Potter, apart from Harry Potter, ever should know about.  
  
But she felt the energy backlash from the opening of a sealed chamber that none had entered for a very long time, as did everyone else in the party. But they knew even less than Sara.  
  
And Sara didn't know much.  
  
Soon, that was going to change.  
  
The scream ripped through her without warning, and she was released from Ben's arms immediately, almost falling to the ground in her pain. The people who had been dancing all stepped backwards, and away from her, as her screams slowly wound down to choking, body racking, sobs.  
  
No body came to help her.  
  
Not one single person stepped forward.  
  
Until her sister, who had been sitting quietly at the children's table (ignoring the other children), stood up and marched over, her blind eyes leading her to her sister.  
  
The silence echoed around her footsteps as she stomped through the parting adults to Sara, ignoring everything else that was not the bent over form sobbing quietly.  
  
Fey knew what had happened, and had been expecting it, but it was, nonetheless a shock as she approached her own flesh and blood, to see nothing but pain and hurt.  
  
Tears dripped down her sister's face as the teenager slowly rocked backwards and forwards half words forming in her mouth and then forgotten, sliding away. The power was still in the air, still tangible with the intensity of it, still intoxicating with the need it contained. The need to resurrect the truth.  
  
"Sara, it's ok, it's ok. It'll all be ok" or so Fey Potter hoped.

* * *

**Notes:**

**Fey Potter:** Is blind but (now) can see, no, she never could see and never will be able to, with normal eyesight at least. Because Fey has a gift. Yes, that's right! The power of sight that all blind people have! (Luckily for me no blind people can take offence to that statement because they can't read this! Mwahaha. If you are blind and you are reading this then I was just kidding and you are not really blind, so do not take offence .

**The (new) DoM: **Is not exactly (not even almost, really) like the old DoM, for one thing it's based off my own ideas (which means that it's nothing like anything you have ever heard, seen, thought, because you are likely sane and I am not) and for another we know nothing of the previous DoM apart from the fact they keep brains there. More will be revealed in the next chappie and other stuff as well.

**The foyer:** A random place you never want to visit. It's possibly the worst place on earth. It has things that can kill you like that and other stuff to that is complicated. It's there to weed out prospective terrorists and other stuff like that, and just because it fits.

**Cassie and Tawny:** Work in the DoM and are working on the 'where did he go after he disappeared from the history books' scene. They are two of a quartet that will be introduced later, probably at the most inconvenient time because this fic needs a bit of humour. Cassie has been working in dep. 1 for four years and is 24 yrs old. Tawny has been working there for three years and is 25. More on them later.

**Benjamin Weasley:** A nice, convenient filler, but I may build on him if you want.

**Harry Potter**: Was not evil. I said this place was twisted, and you decided to read the fic, so you'll just have to wait. Tho why I don't know, it seems strikingly obvious what's happened to me.

* * *

**A/N:** Well I have to admit, although these early chapters are a bit slow and boring, I kinda liked this one, last chappie I wasn't too happy about, but this seems to me to be a bit more interesting, specially the info on the dep's, boring maybe, but nonetheless necessary.  
  
I understand that this is an odd fic, believe me I do, but I swear to you that it will get better (a bit more action for one thing!) but we just have to wait a while for... someone to appear. I'm sure you all know who. Well his (clue if you don't already know and are sighing at the fact I think this is suspensful) appearance is pretty soon, probably next chappie, but maybe the next, so then I promise it'll get a bit (a lot) more interesting!  
  
Did you know that not one person has reviewed this fic? I feel sad, usually at least one person tells me it's decent. Please review and I'll update as soon as I can!  
  
R**E**V**I**E**W**!  
  
Pre ...'-'... 


	4. The Difference

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the following story in any way.

**Chapter Three**

* * *

****

"_Midnight shakes the memory_

_As a madman shakes a dead geranium_

TS Elliot_"_

* * *

****

**1997**

_He stopped slowly, and rose his head from it's bowed position, gazing into the red eyes that had tormented his life from the second he had come into the world. And he felt like screaming. Because in those eyes was something he never thought he would see, something that had no place, something that had no _right _to be there. _

_Tom Riddle regretted, and it was all Harry could do not to kill him on the spot._

"_It's not your right Tom! It never will be!" The red eyed adult turned to the teenager, gripping his wand tightly in his left hand, his eyes hardened as he looked at the boy who had ruined his life, several times over._

"_A momentary laps in my bastard complexion, I can assure you, _Potter, _it _won't_ happen again" Harry blinked in surprise at the joke the dark lord had cracked before looking suddenly scared._

"_Shit Tom, you're freaking me out with this 'humour' crap. Please. Something I'm familiar with, say, 'I'm gonna kill you all and take over the world' sota stuff, that would make me feel so much better" Voldemort only laughed at the light's saviour, showing sharp, white teeth in his mirth. Harry grinned as well, but his wand hand never once wavered and his eyes never lost the calculating look hidden deep inside them._

"_Are you going to kill me Harry?" the raven haired teen almost winced, the words striking a chord deep inside him; he had heard them before. An eerie echo of past events, they served a reminder that saving The Rat had been a mistake, he had lost so many people because of the simple decision concerning Pettigrew's life, and he could not let it happen again._

"_Yes, Tom, I'm going to try my damned hardest" Voldemort smiled again, his red eyes peering at Harry from the darkness, as Harry replied in an even and proper tone of voice._

"_Have you ever killed anyone Harry? Have you ever even uttered the killing curse? Picked up a dagger and thrust it into someone's chest? Ever felt hot blood on your hands, on your face... _everywhere,_ as you kneel next to the unmoving body that once housed something more precious than all the gold and diamonds in the world?" The dark lord laughed at the unmoved form of the messy haired child._

"_I _have _Potter, so what makes you think you can defeat me?" for a long moment after Voldemort finished speaking there was silence. Harry didn't speak and he didn't move as his penetrating green eyes regarded the darkest lord of the century with a fake calm._

_Nobody uttered a word._

_Not Harry._

_Not Voldemort._

_And there was no one else to try._

"_Is that supposed to have me running in fear? Screaming in terror? I don't want to kill you Tom. I want to take everything you ever valued away from you. I don't want to stab you with a dagger, or run you through with a sword. I want you to watch your own destruction. I want you to tear your own empire down and have no choice. Killing is too good for you My Lord. But it has to be done, and it just happens I am the one who has been chosen to murder you. Are you ready to die Mr Riddle?" the wand that had never left appeared again, suddenly very noticeable in the large hands of one Harry Potter._

_But Lord Voldemort did not look the least bit scared or even interested by Harry's 'speech' and stood smiling at the saviour in a very insane way. He too rose his wand, ready to do battle for everything he held dear, named, that would be; his life._

"_I am ready for death Mr Potter, but whether it be yours or mine has yet to be decided? Lets get on with it, shall we?" and so, the two greatest wizards of their time, and quite possibly a few others, got on with it. _

_The results are something that has survived over seven hundred years of human criticism, quite a feat, and still stands as the most regarded, debated and worshiped topic._

_At the end of that battle, it was questioned, as Harry Potter emerged from The Place, who had won. _

_He never answered, and four weeks later, he disappeared. _

_His friends were left wondering what Voldemort had said to him, and the wizarding world left... just left without their saviour._

_And although Voldemort died and Harry Potter lived on (as far as anyone knows), no body could ever say for sure, who truly won the greatest battle of all time, but the two who participated in it. And that was not going to happen, because Voldemort certainly wasn't talking (Haha. Joke.)_

_Seven hundred years later, the answers were just about ready to be given._

* * *

"Where the _fuck _are we?" Tawny span around, only to find that she was no longer in 'Hermione's' body, but in her own, and far from corporeal. She was surprised to see the appearance of four other 'characters', although mentally she chastised herself for her astonishment.

"Look around Einstein, why we're in Fiji, can't you tell?" the sarcastic redhead asked, blue eyes laughing at his black haired friend, Tawny noted that none of the new arrivals seemed able to see Cassie or herself and was thankful, she didn't want to be asked about why she was there, in this unknown place.

Meanwhile, the messy haired teen was looking pissed and glaring at the redhead with annoyance before turning back to, Tawny was startled to note, her old character; Hermione. The brunette was looking at them both with pursed lips and a look that clearly stated; 'I'm waiting...' the two boys immediately dropped the playful looks and looked around.

"Guys, are you getting the same vibe I am? It's worrying me. But I know were we are" Hermione nodded and black-hair winced, as if remembering something.

"You got it darling, we're standing in the dead centre of guess where?" the younger, female redhead had finally pipped up in a softly spoken yet sarcastic voice that made black-hair smile slightly, but still look vaguely around the room, lost in memories.

"The department of mysteries. A place I never want to visit again. Guess that luck isn't on my side, never is usually, still, I was thinking that might be changing soon, what with the death of my worst enemy" he sighed dramatically "Oh well, I guess I should have expected it" his lips tugged up and he finally managed to banish what had obviously been bothering him.

"So Mi, why do you think it bought us here of all places?" he wrinkled up his nose in distaste "anywhere but here Mi" Hermione nodded her understanding, and after shooting black-haired a glance of sympathy, turned back to looking around.

"You're right. Why here? Ron? Any suggestions?" the redhead boy opened his mouth to reply, but his younger sister interrupted him before he could even start, sudden inspiration flashing in her eyes. Her brother shot her a dark look.

"Dumbledore said that it would lead us to a place that would take us to wherever we needed to be. The only place that we don't know where it ends up; is the veil. We know Dumbledore's been researching on it. Do you think he might have found out where it goes? Where Padfoot went?" Tawny noticed that all of the other three newcomers had all risen their heads at her original statement, and she didn't miss the look of excitement that passed through each face.

"It's... possible" Hermione said softly, and slowly, as if reluctant to give her agreement.

"If Hermione say's it's possible then that's good enough for me. And if Dumbledore thinks that it's safe it only gets better. Will you come with me?" Black-hair had a look of pure determination on his face as he looked at the others, green eyes burning with an internal fire that made every body in the room, solid or not, sure that what was about to happen, could not be stopped.

The redheaded girl stepped forward, her eyes bright with a determination similar to the boys and nodded her head slowly.

"I'm in" Hermione and blue-eyes looked at her and then at black-hair calculating, before both seemed to come to a silent agreement.

"Me too"

"Me three" The air was so thick with tension and an agreement and determination that Tawny felt like putting herself forward as well, telling them that she too would go wherever they were going, through whatever this veil thing was. She turned to look at Cassie, who also had a look of determination on her face and they exchanged a quick look before turning back to the other four.

Black-hair was smiling at the other three, clearly relieved and nodding his head in thanks.

"At least I know that I'll be going wherever it is I'm going with friends" he considered this a good thing, everyone in the room noticed at his relieved and thankful tone of voice.

It was around about this time that something struck Tawny, or rather, something began to slowly crawl about her mind and she just couldn't pinpoint it. She looked over to Cassie, trying to see if her partner had noticed anything. But Cassie's face had not changed in the slightest as she watched the four with avid attention. Tawny turned back, suddenly a little less eager.

"Why didn't you tell them that you had won?" black-hair looked over to female-redhead and shifted so he was looking at the ground. For a moment there was no answer.

"Because I didn't win, Gin, to have won I would have had to have done more than kill him. I would have had to have done more than wring his little neck and shoot a million and one curses at him. I would have had to have _won_. And I didn't" 'Gin' gulped and black-hair ruffled her flaming locks with a spare hand as he opened a door that lead the two of them into a different room, male-redhead and Hermione followed, immersed in their own conversation.

"But you did kill him" she pointed out, a look of confusion on her young face.

"Yes, I killed him. But like I said, just because he's dead doesn't mean that everything is going to stop. It's slowed down, a lot, but it'll speed up again soon. He may be dead but muggleborns are still hated by a lot of people. The sooner that changes, the sooner everything gets better" they walked through another door and came to a huge chamber where they walked forward towards an archway that was covered with a rough veil.

"That's it" Gin nodded her head and turned to him again, taking her eyes away from the archway.

"But Harry, I don't understand, you didn't believe this before" green eyes looked at her solemnly with an intensity that made Gin fidget, before Harry sighed and released her, his eyes wandering over towards the veil.

"No one ever does" the solum moment was interrupted by the two behind them as they walked in, each making minute sounds at the backs of their throats as they spotted the veil.

Black-grinned at them, ignoring the pensive Gin who was standing next to him, obviously troubled.

"Well? Are we going to go through it or not?" Tawny had a look of surprise and fear on her face as she looked at the strangely powerful and compelling archway. A slight whimper escaped her lips as she turned her head away. None of the solid people were effected though, not in the least; their looks of reflection and blackness all seemed to be due to some event neither Cassie nor Tawny knew anything about.

"Oh god tell me their not going through that!" Tawny gave Cassie an annoyed look, and didn't open her mouth to say anything, let along to tell Cassie that 'they were not going to go through it'.

But it seemed that Cassie had anticipated that.

"Harry, are you sure we should?" the soft voice of Hermione seemed to surprise 'Harry' and he turned to look at her full on, with a surprising amount of intensity that made her shift in position and look at the floor.

"I'll go first. Nothing can go too wrong if I go first" the sentence seemed to be trying to convince himself as much as it was her. But she nodded nonetheless.

"We'll come straight through after you, nothing can stop us" she looked at the other two for confirmation, they both nodded.

"Nothing" confirmed Ginny as she stepped forward and gave him a hug, male-redhead followed close behind, with Hermione following up the two of them. They hugged and each of them looked like they had tears in their separate eyes, Harry was looking a lot less confident.

"You do know what's going to happen don't you? As soon as I go through that veil the three of you are going to follow me and then we'll end up blam knows where crying and being emotional recks for no reason" Harry's twisted joke made them all smile a little, and banish the ill thoughts that each of them seemed to have. Suddenly Harry was serious again.

"Even if that doesn't happen, even if I never see you again; remember that I love you all. With all of my heart. Forever, and, ever" the tears that had threatened were now falling freely down the other three's faces as they looked at the green-eyed man.

And before any of them could say goodbye again he turned around and walked through the veil.

Tawny gasped in surprise and Cassie cried out in anguish as there was a great crash, and the entire structure that had once been the most highly guarded secret in the DoM, fell to the ground.

It was not melodramatic in any sense of the word.

There was not a huge thunder strike as the archway collapsed.

Simply the sound of falling rubble.

The that the man made of his world was normal in every way.

Apart from one:

He was leaving it at all.

* * *

**Notes:**

**The archway:** The one and only mysterious and questionable... yeah, you got it. Archway. Surprise! I don't know _why _I need to tell you the definition of a friggin _archway, _but I will if you want. It's true, there is something about the veil you don't know, and won't until I tell you cose I made it up, but I'm not telling until it comes up in a tad bit more detail. Kinda weird, but think DoM and you're half way there...

**Sirius: **The one and only... nah, just kidding. Sirius, well, ho hum. Him. He's a bit of a glitch in the matrix isn't he? He did sorta fall though that piece of cloth didn't he? And I've sorta made it obvious he ain't gonna be appearing any different to the way he was however many years previously. Umm... basically... the answer is... well: maybe. If I decide to shove the old bagga in I will, but not for a while; this fic has _plans..._

**Ginny:** You tell me. I don't have time to mess around with this, I have to kill _one _of them soon... Nah. None of them are gonna die... yet. And probably not for a while, either, if at all. I'm far too nice to my characters. But romantically? Fat chance. I don't mind HPGW ones, but this just isn't going to turn out that way. I don't think... Kiddin. No way. HP is _TAKEN!_

**Dumbledore: **Think a nice place with mountains made of socks and piles of lemon drops and you've got it.

**Voldemort:** Will be making only memorabilia appearances. No re-incarnation and no other 'I've-been-friggin-possesed-save-me' ones. This is a world where Voldemort is as dead a door nail and the world no better for it. Harry killed him. End of story.

**Ron and Hermione: **What's going on with them? Well I haven't quite figured that out yet. But it'll be good. Not a really important plot though, just something on the side. Don't jump to conclusions. Last time _you_ checked Harry and Hermione were dating... right? And I'll give you a clue. Neither Ron nor Hermione will ever put a ring on the other's finger if I can help it. And I can. So get _that _particular notion out of your head.

* * *

**A/N:**

OH! Perfect place to stop! I was planning to write a whole lot more, but, you have to agree, that was the _perfect_ place to stop. Well, this is the fourth (or third if I had a prologue) chapter and I have ONE review. I am feeling so sorry for myself! Please review! Even if it is only out of pity! I accept everything! Flame's, compliments, advice! ANYTHING!

Moving on.

I am pleased to tell you that I may have a beta for this, and my other fic, _The Song we Sing_ but if you would like to apply for the position then please feel free, she's pretty unreliable as it is.

Ok, umm...

That's pretty much all. So... PLEASE review. I'm really feeling bad, and as you can probably guess there is no way I can put off the return of..._ Someone _for much longer. And things are going to get hot once he finally makes it into the fic!

Thank and REVIEW!!!

Pre -.-

* * *


	5. The Immaterial

**Disclaimer: **Aren't you just a bit sick of this by now? Me telling you I don't own it? Doesn't it just get a _tad _repetitive? I don't own it. I don't own it. It don't own it. And screw it, one more time, just for old times sake: I don't own it.

* * *

**Chapter Four**

****

"_A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet"_

- Shakespeare

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****

It is a questionable idea that one might live on after death has claimed you. Although many people preach that it will happen – that they shall be preserved through any, and every way, it is never true. None of it ever happens, we don't live on, because we are simply not there.

We – the people who we are inside – are different to the people they portray us as.

Harry Potter was not remembered, because he did not live on.

The-boy-who-lived, however, _was_ remembered.

He was remembered in name alone, however, there were no official records of what he looked like, no body had ever written down his eye colour or his hair colour; how pale his skin was or even his middle name. Harry Potter was not a person, because he was never recorded as one. All he ever was; was an object and a name.

The boy-who-lived.

Who else?

Which meant that when he arrived in the year 2718, not a single soul knew who he was.

And for once, just for once in his life – Harry Potter was normal in this new, new world.

Or at least...

For a little while.

* * *

Pain flared into life as he tried to open his eyes, which, he belatedly realised, where not quite taken with the idea of moving in any way. Slowly, as his conscious rose, so did his senses and the sudden feeling throughout his body.

Pain.

Something he was no real stranger to, having lived, and survived in the times he had.

He took a deep shuddering breathe as his lungs ordered more oxygen, and released it as they told him there was enough.

He tried to remember why he could be lying on the ground, or lying at all for that matter, but he couldn't come up with any solid ideas. The last thing that he could remember was the hospital wing, and the sad faces of his friends as he rushed in... a dry sob escaped his lips as he remembered what he had been rushing to.

He had not arrived in time; that much could not be doubted.

In that, his memories were startlingly clear.

Painfully so.

The throbbing that his body felt was nothing compared to the hurt in his soul, the feeling of complete and utter desolation that flowed through every thought he had, and every single memory he could conjure. It was a pain that allowed little peace, a pain that made him want to curl up simply die with the torture it put him through.

It was the pain of losing another he loved.

Another.

Slowly, as salty tears poured down his face, his other, newer memories returned.

The gift his mentor had given him, something that neither he, nor his friends, had ever before had any clue about. Their joy as they had realised the implications that the gift could have, and then the fear as it had delivered them to the one place they most didn't want to be:

The Department of Mysteries.

Somehow, Harry had the feeling the hundreds of years later that building would still be there. It was that sort of an organisation – the one that survived every witch hunt, and always came back even stronger.

He was about to discover just how right he was.

The memories of what had happened once he had stepped through the veil were sketchy at best.

They seemed to be composed of falling and flying and darkness, full of pain and confusion and the knowledge that for once his friends would not be surrounding him as he fought on.

It was not the scariest thing he had ever felt – Harry Potter had lived fear – but it was the sort of feeling he didn't really want to have to repeat.

He shivered convulsively as a gust of wind blew past him. The cold stone floor beneath him had never felt less welcoming as he heard the heavy steps of two people obviously rushing towards him in quite a fast manner.

The depression he had been feeling before was fading quickly and he found himself thanking whichever god that was listening for small favours, although he couldn't keep wondering why they were always so damned small (**A/N: **The general gist of that phrase is courtesy of the book '_The Blind Assassin'_ a most wonderful book).

"Oh my god! It's him!" the distinctly feminine voice made its way to him through the mist of pain that had been enveloping him, and he found himself inwardly sneering at the exited exclamation.

_Well done, you've found Harry Bloody Potter balling his eyes out on the floor of some random building. Con-fucking-grats _The sarcastic, Slytherin thought earned a groan from the Gryffindor side of his brain, which was sarcastically cheering the braveness the girl had to approach him – most people nowadays didn't come near him if they could help it.

The groan that escaped his lips was more annoyed than an expression of pain, or joy.

"No? Really?" this time the voice, also female, was defiantly not as celebratory as the first one, this time far more mocking. Harry had a feeling that she might have been a Slytherin. He allowed the wry grin he was suppressing to finally come out, twisting his face into something of a sneer.

"Do you think he's ok?" It was the other one again, but this time she sounded less exited and more professional, perhaps he had been a bit harsh to judge her by the first sentence.

"He looks pretty beaten up" the second, much less sarcastic also, much more worried.

"Yeah, if you call lying in a pool of his own blood 'beaten up'" this time it was again the first, and Harry had decided that he had definitely made a mistake by taking her for a stereotypical bimbo Hufflepuff; the sarcasm literally dripped from her tone.

"Shut it up Cassie, we've got to check that he's alright, pool of blood or no, he could be in serious trouble" this time it was the second one again, all business.

"Yeah, sure Tawny, we should probably get him back to Thea and R'shiel, they'll be pissed if we don't tell them we've found a mystery, not forgetting our motto" The footsteps, which had stopped several metres away suddenly came closer and Harry could see one of the women leaning over him, seeing if he was ok, either that or trying to figure out how to lift him without aggravating his wounds.

He decided to surprise her.

"Hi" his voice was raspy and surprised even himself.

She screamed

* * *

The first thing that Sara noticed as she rose to consciousness was not pain.

It was not fear.

It was not terror

It was not anything bad in any true sense of the word.

But it was something that confused her beyond any total confusion.

She was not where she had been when she had collapsed, that much was certain. She was not in the grand ball room that she had been, not at all. Instead of the extravagant hall she had been dancing in before she was now lying on the floor in a room that was filled with white beds, that all had white sheets and, lo and behold, white pillows.

That in itself wouldn't have been so amazing, if not for some of the items that lay scattered around, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they either hadn't existed for a very long time or were highly illegal and hard to attain, the very building she was in, not to mention the sky she could just see outside.

Something was very, very wrong.

If she didn't know better, she'd almost say that she'd gone several hundred years back in time.

She knew better.

The second immediate thing she noticed was the very small fact that she was transparent.

Which, she thought, might just explain what was happening to her, or, it might not. She wasn't sure.

She stood up, finding that although she might be see through, her weight and balance had all survived whatever trip just fine and she felt perfectly normal, apart from the fact that she could see the floor through her feet. The sensation of touch had also survived, although she was quite sure that it had dimmed a bit.

She walked towards the door, wondering if she might go straight through it instead of having to turn the door nob at all, as insubstantial as she was.

She didn't go straight through however, and with small grin to herself, pushed the door open.

It was clear that she had been in some sort of infirmary, and an ancient looking one at that, but as she stepped out she became less certain – whatever building she was in; it was unlike any she had ever seen before.

The hallways were paved with stone, pictures and portraits lined the walls and a soft plush carpet ran zigzag like down the corridor. Huge glass windows with reds and blues and greens let in a flood of light that illuminated everything, showing the floating dust that drifted through the air aimlessly. Outside the window was the bluest sky she had ever seen, fluffy white clouds drifting high in the sky like fluffy white sheep. There was a lake that was such a crystal blue that she was stunned and the green grass that surrounded it almost blinded her with it's beauty.

Wherever she was, she didn't want to leave.

As she drifted along the corridor, she could hear talking and voices coming from behind a huge double door, but she was reluctant to enter. If she could touch and feel things then it was likely that she could be seen, and wherever she was, it was not her home, and she may, therefore, not be welcome.

_But you're a Potter _a part of her mind whispered, informing her that wherever she was, she was welcome, wherever she went, people had to respect her. But that part of her mind was being pushed further and further away as the bigger part of informed the smaller part that what she had taken for truth for so long, was really nothing more than a complicated, interwoven and startling lie.

She was not a Potter.

She was not even an adoptive Potter.

She was nothing more, nor nothing less, than a common, peasant. She was the type of people her mother scorned – and disposed of – whenever she saw fit. But their blood, Sara realised, had made them nothing less than they should have been, but far, far more.

It was not a happy thought.

Before she could start to walk in the other direction – away from the two doors, they burst open and someone came rushing out wearing a weird dress like thing with tears pouring down her face.

The girl had a load of fiery red hair that fell halfway down her back, tied up in a French pony tail it was out of her face, exposing soft hazel eyes that, at the moment, were red rimmed. Her pale skin and porcelain like face was streaked with salty tears. But Sara only had a moment to register all of this before, with a painful bang, the two of them were sent tumbling to the floor.

_Well, _she thought sarcastically _that solved the problem of being seen_

"Oh... I'm sorry... I just..." this time the red head didn't continue, she was staring at Sara, or rather, the wall behind Sara. The sixteen year old girl pouted at the pitying look she received from the red-head and glared at her.

"Yes?" Sara asked snobbishly, her background and breeding taking over "Is there a problem miss..." she trailed off, obviously waiting for the other girl, who looked about her age, maybe a bit older, to fill in her name.

"Weasley. I'm Ginny Weasley. And I'm sorry for being so rude it's just... I didn't know Hogwarts had a new ghost and you gave me rather a shock, especially how I tripped over you... I didn't think ghosts were meant to be physically touched" her tears had dried and open curiosity was displayed on her face, but something the girl had said had sent Sara into a spiral of confusion.

"Weasley?" Ginny sniffed, but nodded to the question.

"Yes, my brother's Ron, surely you've heard of him?" Sara had not. Sara had heard of other Weasley's, Weasley's that were not called Ron, or Ginny and Weasley's that wouldn't be caught _dead_ talking to her in the kind yet curious way that Ginny was, Weasley's that would kill themselves before they were seen, by anyone, to have tear tracks down their faces.

So she nodded her agreement to knowing exactly who this Ron was.

"The name sounds familiar" Ginny nodded slowly, again looking at the transparent midriff that Sara had exposed.

The clothes she was wearing were a relatively new fashion in the year 2716. Something of a mix between the ancient dress of the founders and the modern, new age clothes, they were certainly out of place next to the dress like robes that Ginny was wearing. Sara blushed a bit and wrapped her arms around herself, waiting for the red head to say something.

"I don't think I've seen those sorts of clothes before, um... where do you come from exactly?" Sara flushed again, rocking backwards and forwards about a foot above the floor.

"Well they're pretty normal where I come from and... well... I come from the Northern Global Hierarchy Head Quarters, at least, I live there, but before I came here I was actually at a ball with my family and to tell you the truth I'm not exactly sure where 'here' is and I'm a bit confused as to why I'm sorta see through cose I don't much remember dying or anything and I woulda though I might be, if not for the fact that some pretty weird shit's been going on around me lately and I just don't know _what _to think" she sighed and shock her head again, feeling stupid for babbling as much as she had been.

The red-head seemed to agree. She had a look of confusion on her face as she sorted through what Sara had said.

"Um... well... what's your name again?" Sara blinked and then realised she hadn't even introduced herself to the older girl. She felt even stupider as her cheeks coloured.

"Um... I'm Sara, Sara Potter, actually. It's a pleasure to meet you Ginny; I think I might now some relatives of yours, or something like that, because I know some people who are Weasley's, Benjamin and Kitty, actually. Do you know them?" she was confused, undoubtedly she was confused, and the sudden warily stunned look on Ginny's face told her that she was a little _too _confused.

"Potter?" Ginny's voice was suddenly faint, as if she was remembering something.

"Um... yeah. Potter. Normally I'd be proud, but, like I said; some pretty weird shit's been happening to me lately, and I'm not exactly sure what's happening. I swear – one second I'm secure in the knowledge that life is going fine and normal like, and then bam! My sister goes and tells me some stuff and... why am I telling you this?" Ginny seemed to have spaced out a bit, but the question brought her to her senses and suddenly Sara found herself at the point of one very dangerous looking piece of wood.

She looked at it curiously, wondering exactly what Ginny was planning to do with the wand.

It was known that the only people capable of using wands were the Potters – every other pureblood or a five generation muggle, had to have a magical emblem to be able to perform any magic at all, apart from accidental magic of course.

"I know you can't use that" Ginny rose an eyebrow at the snobbish tone she used, looking at her as if she was mad.

"What makes you so sure?"

"Well, I am a Potter" as if that explained it.

"As if that explains it" Ginny, ever the red-head, was suddenly very, very angry.

"And I'm a Weasley. So that'll explain to you why if I decide to wring you like a washer she'll stay wringed for a very long time. I don't appreciate you using my best friends name as your last and then flaunting it like there's no tomorrow!" Sara's head snapped up, she knew that she was the only Potter of her generation – and Benjamin the only Weasley.

Which meant that somewhere, there had been a miscommunication of information.

"I don't think we're on the same wavelength here. Let's forget our names – they've only ever given people the wrong impression, and try and figure out why I'm transparent" Ginny looked reluctant for a moment, before pocketing her wand and nodding her agreement to Sara's assessment of blindness because of names.

"Yeah, ok then"

"Do you know where we are?" _stupid question, Sara_ the internal critic in her brain informed her sarcastically, laughing at how idiotic she sounded.

Ginny was giving her an odd look.

"Why yes, I do, and I don't mind admitting I'm a hell of a lot confuse that you don't" Sara blushed again and looked down, cursing herself for her suddenly red face.

"Yeah, well, like I said I come from the NGHHQ and we don't much go around to small places like this" she was, of course, assuming that it was small. Ginny was giving her another look.

"Small?" Sara looked confused

"Well, yeah. I mean, if this place was big I'd know it; we don't go to many of the muggle sites but magically I've been to virtually every single popular place" Sara said, noticing that Ginny was looking confused now as well.

"What's the N-G-H-H-Q? It doesn't sound familiar at all" Sara gave the petit red-head an incredulous stare, as if to say... you wha...?

"I'm sorry?"

"I've never heard of the NGHHQ, umm... what is it?" Sarah flopped down onto a cushion of air and looked up at the ceiling.

"I'm going mad. That is the only reasonable explanation" Ginny couldn't help the reluctant grin that graced her face at Sara's bland comment.

"No, I think I am"

"No, me"

"No! Me!"

"NO! ME!"

"NO! ME!"

"Um... Ginny? Are you alright?" the new voice, which sounded female also, was tentative, as if she expected Ginny to explode at the very question. The red-head looked up in surprise as a bushy brown haired girl rounded the corner, peering around before she came.

"Oh, hi Hermione. I'm fine now, I was just a little upset, I mean... Harry..." she trailed off, apparently thinking of why she had run, crying, into Sara to begin with. Sara was unsure what she should do, the brown eyed girl made her incredibly nervous for some reason.

"I understand Ginny, don't worry, he'll be fine" she looked up and noticed Sara for the first time.

"Oh, um, hello. Who are you?" Sara noticed that the new girl also had a wand, a mystery that was worthy of the department that handled them.

"Oh, my name is Sara. It's a please to meet you... Hermione? Was it?" the brown-haired girl nodded, looking at her suspiciously.

"Yes. Pleasure, I'm sure. Do you know that you're see-through"

"Blunt, aren't you?" as soon as the comment had escaped her lips Sara was horrified and threw both of her hands over her mouth in shock; no Potter had been bred to be so rude, even if not in any company she could recognise. But the girl laughed instead, seemingly completely unaffected that Sara had been so rude.

"Well? Do you?"

"Yeah, I did notice actually. Surprise, surprise"

"Are you a ghost?"

"Not that I know of"

"What sort of clothes are you wearing?"

"Fashionable ones!"

"Uh huh. Sure. What's your last name?"

"Erm... at the moment we're not doing last names"

"Oh, right. I see. Last name?"

"Nuh! The whole Shakespeare thing: a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet?"

"I think you know as well as I that that does not apply to many things in real life. I don't know you, and I don't know why you're here. There has just been a stinking long war in which I have lost far too many friends and am not willing to loose any more. Therefore if you are a nice, kind, lovely person then so be it, but your name _will_ have an influence on me, mainly because it will mean that you grew up with people who could have influenced _you_. Now, last name?" Sara blinked.

"Uh..." Ginny, seeing that Sara was occupied in trying to work out the brown-haired girls logic stepped in.

"She says her last name is Potter, and apparently she knows some people with the last name Weasley, although I sure don't know any relatives we have; one of the reasons we have such a large family is because both mom and dad lost people in the first war" Hermione was barely listening to the end of the sentence, favouring instead gaping at Sara.

"You're trying to tell me that your last name is Potter?" Sara would have stamped her foot, if she had have been on the ground, but as it was she was floating just above them, amber locks floating eerily around her head, suspended in the air.

"I'm _trying _to, but so far I haven't been able to _say _anything!" Hermione huffed and looked at her calculatingly.

"It's pretty dirty saying that your last names Potter, especially to us of all people" Hermione's voice was quietly chiding, as if Sara was a little girl who had done something wrong. Said little girl scowled.

"It's my name!"

"Related to any one called Harry?" if Sara hadn't been feeling very, very creeped out she would have scoffed at the very idea. Related to any one called Harry? What exactly did she mean by that?

"You could say"

"Do you know him personally?" now Sara was really pissed off. They were asking if she knew Harry Potter? As in... _Harry Potter?_ They were mad. It wasn't her after all. It was them. They were mentally unstable.

"Well... no. Not personally, after all, _he's only been dead for seven hundred years!"_ all three girls blinked.

"You mean, Harry James Potter?" Sara frowned; no body knew his middle name.

"I mean the boy-who-lived, Harry Potter"

"You mean Harry James Potter." Sara scowled.

"Whatever"

"You are mad."

"No, I've already decided that you are"

"Trust me, we're not mad at all, you are the crazy one"

"No, trust _me_ it's you"

"It's you"

"It's _you"_

"This is enough!! Harry is not dead!! He's just gone missing for a while!! He'll be back!!" Sara turned to look at the furious Ginny. She felt like laughing.

"I swear it's like we're talking across time periods or something!" at Sara's words, the girl's eyes grew wide with the sudden realisation of what might have happened.

"Oh my fucking god"

* * *

**Notes: **

**The whole Sara thing: **I have to admit this was, is, not part of the real plot. I've just sent her back for fun. She will learn virtually nothing and then wiz bang fiz, she'll be back in Sara-time, and not Harry-time. It's end up next chappie, I can assure you, she may not even remember it.

**NGHHQ:** Wow. My little baby. Yeah, well, it's a place she lives! She has to have a home! Why not put her at the HQ? Works for the HP universe it can work for _The Definition_.

**The whole Harry thing:** This is a bit complicated, but all in all, no one recognises him because, essentially, there are so many stories about them that they don't know the real thing. So when the real thing turns up bang in the middle of their lives... heh. Who knows? I'm gonna have some fun with this.

* * *

**A/N:** Suspiciously few notes. Please review; I really do like the encouragement.

Also, go read my other fic: _The Song we Sing _if you haven't already. It rocks. Or at least, I think it rocks.

This chapter is especially long because I am so nice. If you want long chapters then you have to review; a preview of what you could have...

**R**E**V**I**E**W

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